


All I Want

by dustygoldfish



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Angst?, Anxious Michael Mell, Gay Michael Mell, Gen, I read through this exactly twice, Jeremy Heere Loves Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell met in pre-k, Michael Mell Has Two Moms, Michael Mell Loves Jeremy Heere, Michael Mell Needs a Hug, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Post-Squip Jeremy Heere, Pre-Canon, Song Lyrics, Song: All I Want (Kodaline), based on all i want, i edited this myself exactly once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29414394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustygoldfish/pseuds/dustygoldfish
Summary: **Based on the song: All I Want by Kodaline (I used Spotify but it is also available on Youtube and likely other music streaming sites)**Short-ish bits of Jeremy and Michael's stories based on lyrics to the aforementioned song. (Note: I did not use all of the lyrics and I am *still* not good with summaries).
Relationships: Christine Canigula & Jeremy Heere, Christine Canigula/Jeremy Heere, Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	All I Want

**Author's Note:**

> First, Michael's moms have become a comfort for me to write so ignore their happiness. (Nanay means 'mom' in Filipino as far as I'm aware, if you know better, please let me know!)  
> Second, if you didn't read the tags: I read through this twice and edited it myself once. If there are any mistake or things you're confused about just comment :))  
> Third, I made this one chapter so all the lyrics go together :)

_All I want is nothing more,_

_To hear you knocking at my door_

_Cause if I could see your face once more…_

_I could die a happy man, I’m sure._

The afternoon sun streamed in from a window, illuminating dust on its way to the ground. The table below it was covered in forgotten homework and notes, pens and pencils, binders, and notebooks. A fan was running slowly behind the couch placed in the middle of the room, filtering the weed’s smell before it could get too far. In front of the couch was a tv. The screen was lit up with a bloody game.

The game that was being played on the screen was silent, save for the muffled noises coming from Michael’s headphone. His eyebrows scrunched and his tongue stuck out as he fought off another hoard of monsters. He leaned into the controller, mashing buttons skillfully, defending himself against the zombies on screen.

The violent noises coming from the screen could barely be heard through Michael’s headphones. With his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, he fought back against another wave of zombies.

Within moments of the horde beginning their attack bright red text flashed across the screen. His glasses reflected the bold “GAME OVER” until he fell back against the couch with a groan. He dropped his controller and pulled the headphones off his ears. The sudden silence left him unsettled, so he grabbed the remainder of his drink to chug before standing up. When he stretched his elbows made satisfying popping noises.

He didn’t want to think about anything besides this level, right here and now. Not the last time he- the last time _they_ had attempted to finish it. He could do it himself, he just needed some fuel. The pizza he ordered with his moms’ “emergency” food money should be here soon anyway.

His mothers were out for the day on their monthly date weekend. They had made sure there were enough groceries for him to last the weekend, but they also left him enough money to buy emergency pizza if he needed to (he wouldn’t need to and they knew that, but they also knew their son and let him buy it anyway).

His headphones made a muffled noise as he dropped them on the couch next to the controller. Michael _didn’t_ make a muffled noise when he plopped himself onto the couch, sighing loudly into the quiet.

He rubbed at his eyes. Maybe playing games until he heard his moms walking upstairs was not his brightest ideas, but he’d do it again if given the chance (which he would be doing tonight). Michael didn’t want to fall asleep though, he had pizza coming and he knew he wouldn’t want to get back up. Still, he debated on if he could take a nap and wake up in time to catch the end of a bid on some Snapple’s “Tru Root Beer” (It was like regular root beer, but _clear_ ).

Then he heard something upstairs. He listened again, a knock. His pizza was here.

“Amen,” he said to no one when he stood up and ran up the stairs. Michael peeked at the door before running into the kitchen to count out enough for pizza and a tip. When he walked to the door he could see their side through one of the windows next to the door.

They had brown hair and wore a blue jacket of some kind. He also realized they were just slightly taller than him. He paused, shook his head, and reached the door.

He should open it.

He needs to open it.

It’s cold outside, open the door.

He couldn’t. Michael couldn’t open the door because he was scared. He knew that this was some random person here to give him a pizza, take his money, then leave. He knew this wasn’t Jeremy. But he made the mistake of _hoping_ , when he first saw those few tiny details he _hoped._

_Hoped_ his best friend decided to stop ignoring him. _Hoped_ that Jeremy would be on the other side with a smile. Maybe he would apologize! Maybe they would be friends again and pretend the past month hadn’t happened. Maybe Jeremy figured out how to get rid of the SQUIP before Michael!

He knew that wasn’t true. He knew he really should open the door. So, he did. But, a set of realizations that he had hurt.

The person holding the pizza box smiled at him, their brown hair hanging into their eyes a bit too far to be intentional. They held out the box as Michael took it with one hand and handed them the cash with another. They wished him a goodnight. He returned the sentiment. He closed the door.

Michael looked at the pizza in his hands, they were shaking a little. He felt like he was about to cry. Which he _wasn’t_ (yes, he was). He didn’t want to think about anything he realized when he had that moment of hope.

But he did.

He realized three things, in this order: he was ready to forgive Jeremy, he missed Jeremy more than he let himself admit at first, and Jeremy wasn’t here because of his own choice. Michael didn’t want to forgive so quickly, he wanted to pretend he barely noticed Jeremy’s absence. He wanted to pretend someone made Jeremy block him out… literally.

Oh no… he _was not_ about to cry. Nope. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of one hand. He was tired though. He moved to the kitchen to put the pizza box down. He stood there for a moment.

He leaned onto his elbows, face in his hands. He let himself cry. It felt stupid at first. He just thought that they were someone else, it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was, he understood that as he sat down to lean against the dishwasher.

It _was_ a big deal, to him at least. They weren’t Jeremy, and he wanted it to be. He needed it to be. He realized he had curled in on himself as more emotion fought in him. Forcing himself to unfold, Michael cried.

He cried for his friend who was in some kind of danger, even though Michael had no idea what kind. For himself, for every time he felt ignored, the twelve years he felt crumbling within a month. He breathed deeply as he felt the tears slow.

Michael Mell was sitting in his kitchen at six pm, there was pizza sitting on the counter in front of him and he was sitting down, crying.

He started to laugh. _That_ was certainly not his original Saturday plan. He wiped his eyes with his sleeves, made a face at the snot he rubbed off too. He sniffed loudly and stood up, feeling like that hypothetical nap had very quickly become a definite. He laughed quietly to himself once more and picked up the box of pizza.

He counted the stairs as he walked down, the third and seventh creaked loudly, the fourth creaked a little, and the rest were silent. Michael was finding it easier to calm himself down from a panic attack or just a good cry the longer he was alone. It wasn’t _easy_ yet, just easier. He dropped the box next to an empty chip bag on the small table in front of the couch.

The blanket he grabbed smelled a little like weed, but he wasn’t about to complain. The couch sunk in with him when he laid down; he used a sweatshirt he found on the floor as a pillow and pulled the blanket over his shoulder. The tv screen was still showing off his failure to the room, so he grabbed the remote and turned it off without turning off the game. With the quiet whirring of the fan and the dimming light of the sun his drowsiness won the nonexistent battle for consciousness, and Michael fell asleep.

_When you said your last goodbye,_

_I died a little bit inside._

“Come on man, move it.”

“Or you’ll what?”

Jeremy’s eyes darkened just enough to scare Michael. He held his stance though; he would help his friend even is they didn’t want it.

“Get out of my way,” Jeremy stared at Michael with a hatred the latter had never seen before, especially not directed at him, “ _loser_.” Michael stepped to the side as Jeremy shoved past, slamming the door behind him.

The noises of the party in the rest of the house became clear for those few seconds the door was open, but now the muffled music and chatter took its place once more. Michael walked up to the door, locked it, stayed. He didn’t know what to think. He needed to snuff the rising tension building in his chest; he needed to breathe.

His stomach burned, and he felt nauseous. He stepped back from the door; the room seemed bigger as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. _Loser_. Michael looked up, trying to blink away tears.

Someone was banging on the door, he yelled an excuse, they left. _Loser_. He was alone in a cold bathroom with too-bright lights on Halloween. No one notice if he wasn’t there, or if he disappeared. That ugly feeling in his stomach pushed at his gut. His throat felt small.

He needed to breathe.

He stood and walked to the sink. Someone started knocking again. They’d probably start to shout soon. He’d be fine in a few minutes. He just needed a few minutes!

The knocking got louder, or it seemed to as Michael was trying to not have a panic attack in the bathroom at the biggest party of the fall. Why did Jeremy have to leave him alone?! Jeremy knew how to help him; it took Michael longer to calm down on his own.

The knocking became banging. The air coming in was barely more than how much was getting out. He never should have showed up. This was a bad idea. What did he hope would happen? Jeremy would accept his help and they’d be best friends again?

Yes. That was exactly what he hoped for. _Hoped_. Michael really needed to learn his lesson.

And he did now, that hopeful voice inside of him that sang to him about how he could fix things was silenced. That hopeful voice that told him that things could go back to how they were was blind. It was stupid, and Michael was glad it was dead. He slid down onto the floor to wipe off the water he had thrown on his face; his respite was ending, and he could feel his breathing quicken again.

As he started to cry, he decided that yeah, that hopeful voice in his head had died. Michael told himself he was glad to get rid of it, no hope then no disappointment, right? He tried as hard as he could to believe that as he hid his face in his knees with his hands gripping his hair.

He mourned.

_I lay in tears in bed all night,_

_Alone without you by my side._

Michael’s nose was stuffy. He ripped out another tissue, blowing into it then making a face at the noise.

When he came back from the party, his moms had been watching a movie in the family room. His nanay waved at him without taking her eyes off the screen, and his mom turned to say hello before seeing his face. She slapped her wife’s shoulder, but Michael really didn’t want to deal with their fussing right now. He walked past the room and into the basement that had slowly become his bedroom over the course of his life. He heard one of them call his name; the door slammed behind him in response.

Now, the fan was making him cold, but he didn’t feel like standing to turn it off. Instead, he wrapped himself in a blanket and sniffled quietly. Used tissues were stacked on his nightstand, covering several of his knick-knacks. His glasses were folded next to him.

Neither of his mothers came downstairs, as they knew he wanted space. They’d ask him in the morning though. So, for now, he was alone. He had cried enough for the night, he felt. The party, his car, his room. He was tired, his eyes hurt, and he couldn’t breathe through his nose.

He sniffed loudly, reached for another tissue, and blew his nose grossly. He’d probably get a headache soon.

Michael wanted to sleep, but he turned onto his back and stared at his ceiling. He felt tears roll down the sides of his face; they hit his ears. He wiped his face again.

He wasn’t sure why he was crying still.

Through the window, the sunset was coming to an end, so the room was bathed in a deep orange glow.

If Jeremy were here, he would tell a joke to make Michael laugh, or start a story about his day to distract him. He would smile, cautiously at first then wider once Michael joined in. They would lie down on the bed, making up shapes in Michael’s ceiling. Jeremy had once managed to convince ~~a very high~~ Michael he found the Ghostbusters’ ghoul logo. That was fun.

Michael turned his head. His eyes didn’t meet blue, smiles, or brown hair. They met the bare spot of wall below a Bob Marley vinyl case.

He wasn’t kidding anyone; he was crying because he missed his best friend. Michael had given up after Jeremy left him in the bathroom, he was done trying to help him.

Crying alone in his room sounded pathetic, but it also sounded like a reasonable way to accept the end of his friendship with Jeremy. He would take a night of tears over days of disappointment and hurt.

_But if you loved me…_

_Why’d you leave me?_

_Take my body_

_Take my body_

Jeremy hadn’t made a move towards his house yet; he was still sitting in Michael’s car. Michael was tapping on the steering wheel with one hand, waiting for Jeremy to do something, or say something.

The events of the play were only two weeks old, and things were fine again for the first few days. The longer they spent together though, the more cracks Jeremy could see in their bond. They still drove together to school and back, had slushies, smiled, laughed, everything friends did. And anyone outside of them would probably think they _were_ friends.

But Jeremy saw that Michael’s smiles never fully reached his eyes like they used to. He didn’t sing along as loudly to Marley or whatever cassette he had playing in the car at the time. He would open his mouth, second guess himself, close it.

Michael breathed deeply and sighed, he sniffed then turned to look through the window towards Jeremy’s house. Jeremy hated that. He wanted Michael to look at him and smile, _really_ smile. He hated himself, he _was_ the one who messed everything up, right? And he hated Michael. That wasn’t fair and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted Michael to forgive him, he had before but it didn’t sound true. He wanted to believe that it was though.

He cleared his throat causing Michael to turn to him, desperately keeping the emotion out of his eyes. Jeremy maintained eye contact for a few seconds before looking down at his backpack he had been holding since they left school. Michael waited for him to speak.

He cleared his throat, and Michael turned to him. They maintained eye contact for a few seconds until Jeremy looked down to his backpack in his lap. Michael waited.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. Michael’s head cocked slightly, eyebrows furrowing.

“What?”

“I-I um I said I’m sorry. Again. I mean, what I did was _so_ messed up, and I can’t make it up to you, I know that but maybe-,” Michael laughed lightly, but it sounded forced.

“I told you man, it’s ok. You apologized at the play and about every day after. It’s fine, Jere. We’re cool.” He smiled at Jeremy. Jeremy felt a happy feeling bubble up in him, and he smiled back. Michael’s smile looked forced, like his laugh. Either way, Jeremy missed seeing it. He missed seeing Michael, and he missed being friends with him. He needed Michael to know that.

“Hey Michael?”

Michael hummed in response.

“I love you, man.”

Michael tensed for a millisecond. He paused before inhaling deeply, looked out the front window, then down to his steering wheel. One arm was leaning on the armrest between him and Jeremy, the other was resting on the wheel, picking at a seam. He didn’t want to hurt Jeremy, well he didn’t want to _want_ to hurt Jeremy. But it wasn’t fair, right? If Jeremy loves him, why didn’t he stay? Why did he block him out? Jeremy’s “love” seems to have a loose definition if popularity was worth more to him. He was tired of trying to get over being ignored for months; he figured out how to express all of this with one question.

“If you love-,” he took a heavy breath and shut his eyes tightly before opening them and continuing, “If you _loved_ me,” he turned to Jeremy, forcing down the urge to cry or yell or both, “then _why_ … why’d you leave me?”

The seconds of silence that followed felt longer. Michael was still staring at Jeremy. Jeremy’s eyes widened slightly. His brows came down, and he opened his mouth. Michael raised his eyebrows slightly; he waited for Jeremy to give him an answer. Jeremy closed his mouth, looked to his backpack straps, back to Michael, licked his lips. He didn’t know what to say.

The seconds of silence that followed felt heavy. Michael was holding his poker face, but his tight grip on the steering wheel and small shine in his eyes gave him away. Michael knew Jeremy could read that (even after the SQUIP, right?). He knew this wasn’t something that could be fixed with screaming along to Marley on the way to 7-11 after school. It went deeper.

The seconds of silence that followed felt conclusive. Jeremy was impressionable and desperate, and Michael knew that. He used to think it was funny sometimes. He knew that Jeremy had wanted to be noticed and loved by others, even if he didn’t know who they were. But that idea of a group of people loving him, knowing him. That was _apparently_ worth more to Jeremy than one person who liked him, loved him, trusted him. Trusted. Michael had to admit he really didn’t see that coming. He sat in his car, eyes on Jeremy, and waited.

Jeremy opened his mouth again, “I-I’m sorry,” Jeremy looked like he was barely keeping himself from crying. His sweater felt hot, and the closed-in car felt stuffy. Michael blinked at him, defeated. He felt stupid for hoping Jeremy could say something that would fix everything. He clenched his jaw, relaxed himself and leaned in his chair. He rubbed his face with a hand.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and huffed a laugh out, “I got that Jere, it was just a question,” he picked at the seam on the wheel again. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“We’re at your house… by the way.”

Jeremy felt his throat get smaller. He could take the hint. Michael wanted him out, but it wasn’t clear to him if they were only talking about the Cruiser. The thought that Michael didn’t want to be near him made him feel nauseous. The feeling worsened when he realized that that was what Michael had thought during their time apart. He turned and quickly opened the car door. The leaves he would have loved to crunch under his feet now set him on edge. Jeremy hunched his shoulders, he would not cry in his driveway, no way.

But then Michael shouted something at him through the car’s open window.

Jeremy started to turn, but Michael was driving away already. He sighed in relief as he began walking to his door again. Those words made his heart unclench a bit and he could breathe a little more, but as he opened his door, he felt uneasy again. Those shouted words sounded so _final_.

Michael drove around the curve of Jeremy’s street, thinking. He had tried to tell himself that Jeremy deserved to feel scared and confused with the situation, but he couldn’t believe it. He wanted- needed- to know. To understand. He needed a reason for why Jeremy left him the way he did. Michael stopped at the only light between his and Jeremy’s house.

He just needed one reason. One “because”. Anything beyond the barrage of reasons he convinced himself whenever he tried to fall asleep. And Jeremy couldn’t give him one… yet? Maybe…

He did need Jeremy to know that he cared. So, he rolled down his window. Michael saw him start to turn, stopping in the middle of his driveway and unhunching his back. But Michael didn’t have anything else to say, so he drove off. He realized as he pulled into his own driveway that that was goodbye. To the friendship he had with Jeremy; of course, they’d still talk and hang out, joke and laugh, but Michael didn’t think they could make it back to their “before”. He probably knew on some level what he was doing in front of Jeremy’s house, but it only hit him once he was home. Goodbye… He decided he really hated that word.

_All I want is_

_And all I need is_

_To find somebody_

_I’ll find somebody_

_Like you, oh, oh_

_Oh, oh_

_You_

_Like you_

“You know, I don’t think I should do this.” Michael said to his textbook for the fourth time in the past half hour alone. His roommate groaned over their own book.

“Having fun over there?”

“Ugh, god. Seriously! Professor Jones? She’s trying to kill me, I swear dude. I can’t take it, why do I even _need_ an English credit? My major isn’t English!”

Andy looked up from their book with a sigh. “I really don’t know, Micha. But I promise, if I did, I would have told you any of the other _thousand_ times you’ve asked!” They smiled at him with their best ‘customer-service’ smile. Michael mocked a laugh, turning to them from his seat at his desk.

“God, Andy! You’re so funny! Please, could you forgive me for complaining about something? I don’t know what came over me!” Michael threw his hand against his face dramatically. His sarcasm made Andy roll their eyes, barely hiding a laugh. A comfortable silence filled their dorm as Andy returned to their textbook and Michael continued to grumble over his essay.

Jeremy sat at the small table he shared with his ex-girlfriend and current roommate and best friend, Christine. Meanwhile, Christine was running from the bathroom to the bedroom and back. She was trying to get ready for a local audition while he crammed for a test he had in 15 hours.

The two of them had become closer during their senior year and even closer when they realized their colleges were only twenty minutes away. They had been able to find an apartment they could afford together about fifteen minutes from each of their schools. Moving in was easy enough, as they didn’t have to buy anything new.

Jeremy’s back hunched over his computer, giving him weird flashbacks to high school. He jolted when he felt Christine’s lips on his cheek.

“Bye! The audition has two parts, so it’ll be almost an hour long. So,” she grabbed her keys and placed them on the table with her wallet and phone, “you’ll probably have to eat without me unless you want to eat at almost ten at night. But that would be silly, so just go ahead and get whatever. I’ll pick something up for myself on my way back, ok?”

She turned from him to grab her jacket and threw it over her frilly blue shirt. She checked the mirror they set by the door. Her hair was pulled into two buns on the sides of her head. He smiled at her reflection, she smiled back when she noticed him. Christine spun around again, bouncing slightly in her flats that matched her shirt.

“Sounds good, yeah. Uh- break a leg! You’ll nail it, Christine. I know it.” She squealed, grabbed her pile on the table, checked the time, and rushed out the door. When he heard her car door open with its signature groan, he stared at the code on his computer, trying to focus.

Michael and Andy were sitting on their dorm’s floor with two fans running and an open window ventilating their shared joint. Andy blew smoke of their mouth and sighed, thinking, before passing it to Michael.

“Ok, I’ve got one! If you met you from like… _elementary_ school, what would you say?”

Michael took a deep breath, weed making his brain feel much more relaxed, “First non-celebrity crush? Let’s see… oh! The first I can remember was this boy in my fifth… yeah, fifth grade class. His name was James or John or something like that.” Andy seemed satisfied with the answer and took the blunt back.

Michael took a deep breath, allowing the scent of weed to fill his senses. “What I would say…” Andy rolled onto their back, arms behind their head as they watched Michael think, “Probably ‘Hey, you’re gay, don’t smoke in eighth grade, and… don’t let- uh- be careful.” He nearly said to not let someone take a certain pill but held back in front of Andy. They didn’t need to know about that. Andy didn’t seem to notice the pause, and they accepted his answer and the joint.

“Your go, chief.”

“Truth or dare?”

Michael was glad he had this relationship with Andy. The two of them had become close soon after introducing themselves on the first day in their dorm. Only a few months had passed since then, but they had already developed a trust that Michael was comfortable with. It wasn’t as close as… other relationships in his past but he felt they could get there if given the chance.

“Dare”

“But you picked dare last time!”

Andy laughed before responding in a terrible Scottish accent, “What can I say, Mike, my boy? I’ve got a daredevil’s heart between me breathers!”

“Oh lord, ok… I dare you to call your most recent contact and order a pizza from them.”

“Ugh, don’t do the accent man… I dare you to…” Michael joined them in lying on the floor, their joint finished, “to call your most recent uh… text-thingy and… order us a pizza.”

“Blech, that sounds boring. But I will do it! If ye require a call, then ye’ll get one lad!” Their accent was getting worse but that made them laugh harder. They stood quickly, wobbling in place as their vision adjusted before launching onto their bed and snatching their phone from underneath a blanket. They rolled off their bed with a thud and held their phone in the air to let Michael see the screen as well.

The phone rang as Andy called their mom, “Hey, hm? Oh, I’m fine thanks for asking! You? Good, good. Um, what are your specials on this fine evening?”

Michael covered his mouth when he heard their mom’s confused voice through the phone.

“What do you mean what am I talking about? I’m talking about pizza, my good woman! Anyway, hang on a sec…” they covered the phone and turned to Michael, “Micha, what do you want, anything, my treat.”

Michael muffled a snort, barely getting the word out, “P-Pepperoni?”

“Alrighty!” they lifted the phone back to their ear, “I’ll take a large pepperoni, but can you make it questionable?” The confused voice sounded more annoyed, “Yes, perfect! Now, that’s for pick-up… 20 minutes? Cool, cool. Thank you!”

Michael heard more chatter on the other end, but Andy laughed and hung up without saying anything else.

Michael forgot sometimes how much he missed days like this. The summer before leaving for college had been miserable. His plan since middle school had been to go to whatever college Jeremy wanted to go to, it didn’t matter where, as long as they were together. But they barely spoke alone during the entire school year, excluding a semi-awkward assigned-partner project in math. He missed being able to talk to someone freely, not worrying about judgement. He missed making fun of someone and having it returned. He missed having a friend like Jeremy.

Andy was like that. They were like Jeremy in some ways, but still their own person. Andy was more energetic, but both get nervous in public and have a similar sense of humor. Michael thinks he was right, in a weird, roundabout way. Guys like them _were_ cool in college.

_‘Cause you brought out the best of me_

_A part of me I’d never seen_

The laugh erupted from him before he could stop it. Jeremy looked almost startled at his sudden reaction. Michael shoved a hand over his mouth, hitting his glasses, but still giggling. Soon, Jeremy started laughing too. They sat at the island in Michael’s kitchen, shaking with more laughter whenever they made eye contact.

“Excuse me boys, but may I ask what is so funny?” one of Michael’s moms came into the kitchen, grabbing an oven mitt to pull out their dinner. Jeremy blushed slightly, squeezing his mouth shut. Michael took the opportunity to smile innocently at her.

“Hmm? Nothing…” he snickered again, looking back at Jeremy. His friend was holding his lips in a tight line, trying very hard not to laugh again. When their eyes met, Jeremy snorted then promptly turned red and pulled his shirt collar over his face. Michael laughed again, then stopped it with a tight jaw and turning to his mom again. She stood up and placed the food on the stove to cool down before turning to the two kids in her kitchen. She was hit with a wave as she realized again how much she loved them.

“Fine, keep your little jokes from me then.” She hung the mitt up on its small hook, warned the boys not to touch the food or oven, and walked back to the living room to sit with Michael’s nanay.

She sighed contentedly as Divina wrapped an arm over her shoulder and rubbed it gently. Leaning into her wife, she kissed her cheek and rested her head on her shoulder. She could feel Divina smile above her as she watched some nature documentary about fish.

Penny smiled back; she was so happy with everything in her life right now, a thought she had been having quite often for a while. In the arms of someone she loved, with two boys she loved in the next room. She could hear them laughing again, then Michael shouted some reference from a movie the two had watched together. She would always be grateful for Jeremy.

When Michael was four, he began pre-k. He also began to show signs of social anxiety. Before beginning school, Michael was never around more than one or two kids his age at once. And even then, it was rare, since neither Divina nor Penny had many parent friends, and they never put him in a daycare. In class, he wouldn’t talk to the other kids, to the teacher’s dismay. Whenever she set a partner activity, Michael would hide under a table until a teacher convinced him to climb out. Once they realized his pattern, they coaxed him out from underneath the table and allowed him to work with the teacher or her assistant. He seemed to trust them over the kids for some unknown reason.

The teacher never gave up and gave him a new partner every time there was partner work. When he hid under the table, his classmates giggled at him in the condescending way that only kids can manage. Occasionally, one would call him a name they picked up from an older sibling.

One day, about two months into the school year, the teacher realized she hadn’t partnered Michael with another quiet boy who seemed very shy but worked well with others, albeit a little awkwardly. She had no reason beyond hope that they would work, nor did she have any idea how that decision would change both boys’ lives.

“Michael, you’re going to work with Jeremy today, ok?”

Michael pouted, he hated partner work. He didn’t want to look at Jeremy, so he stayed put, but he saw someone turn to look at him. He didn’t like that. When the teacher let them get started, he ran to his table and slid underneath. He waited for the teacher to tell the nice assistant to help him instead. That usually happened because the other kids never followed him to the table.

But that wasn’t what happened today. A short pair of legs walked up slowly to the table. He looked at them warily until they crouched in front of him.

Blue eyes met brown, Michael said nothing. The boy whose name he thought was J… J something… stayed quiet too.

The teacher watched across the room, holding her breath subconsciously. She was genuinely afraid that Michael would reject working with Jeremy as well. That left her with very few options. But then something unexpected happened.

Jeremy ducked his head and crawled underneath the table, then sat next to Michael. She saw his small mouth move as he spoke quietly, looking down instead of at Michael. Michael himself had unclenched his arms from around his legs, staring at Jeremy with a small look of wonder. She almost laughed in relief. _Please, please let them work._

Michael was shocked when the scared looking boy with blue eyes joined him under his table.

Michael was shocked when the scared looking boy with blue eyes joined him under his table. The boy started talking to Michael, softly. He didn’t look up at Michael with those bright eyes though. Michael liked that, but he still stared at the other as he spoke.

“Hi, I’m J-Jerm-Jeremy. I’m your par’ner…”

Michael relaxed without realizing it. He stared at the boy whose cheeks were turning pink as he stared at the floor and picked at the cuff of his jeans. Jeremy.

“I’m Michael.”

Penny’s train of thought was interrupted by a loud, “MOM!” The ‘o’ was drawn out in exasperation, she heard muffled laughter again. Yeah, she was definitely grateful for Jeremy.

_You took my soul and wiped it clean_

_Our love was made for movie screens_

**Author's Note:**

> If you read all the way to here, thank you! Having people read my work is so crazy. If you liked it, leaving a kudos is *immensely* appreciated. And comments help me improve, give me motivation, or both!


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